


Glistening

by gh0st_tiddies



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0st_tiddies/pseuds/gh0st_tiddies
Summary: Pre-Entity Danny Johnson spends time with a lucky woman~Maaaay have made this a biiit too dark but uh… my Danny’s a class A piece of shit soooMy contribution to slashthedice ‘s Frisky February “Knives” prompt on tumblr.:DThis was the very first fic I posted so it's pretty short but I'm still proud of it
Kudos: 1





	Glistening

The man lay still. His once wet eyes now dry and glazed, staring blankly upwards. Blood trickled from the gaping hole in the side of his neck, the majority of it pooling around his stiffening body, soaking into his grey shirt and sweatpants.

Muddy boots crossed in front of him with slow, heavy steps and made their way down to the end of the hallway, into the foyer, where a quivering form hung, whimpering.

The woman’s wrists were tied to the staircase railing, her feet dangling just above the floor. Her nightgown had been ripped open and her torso exposed.

She had been rendered completely helpless.

The masked man stood before her, a dark-clad figure with a ghastly white face contorted into a scream loomed over her naked form, taking in her pale, shaking body, his bloody gloved hand reaching up to caress her face, smearing it with the blood of the other man in the process. A gentle gesture that would probably be her last.

She cried into the dirty rag that was shoved into her mouth, her muffled pleads attempting to sway him from killing her.

Sounds that only excited him further.

The man usually never cared to quiet his victims, deriving sick pleasure from their tormented cries, but the neighbors were rather close by this time. He had killed the husband quietly enough, a quick knife through the throat silenced most of the screams, ensuring he had ample time to play with the true target of his hunt.

A flash of light from his hip caught the woman’s attention and her crying trailed off into small whimpers as her eyes fell upon the sharp clip-point blade in his hand. The same blade that had killed her husband minutes ago.

“Isn’t it beautiful?…” his breathless voice suddenly rasped from behind the white mask as he twisted the knife in his hand, angling the blade so that it flashed against the moonlight.

“You’re so lucky…”

She began to sob again, pleading into her gag.

A sinister chuckle came from the man as he trailed the blade against the woman’s soft flesh. Ghosting it between her breasts while his eyes trained onto her red, tear-stained face. Her eyes wide in terror, averting her teary gaze upwards to keep from watching while she tried to keep her body still.

She knew what was coming.

The cold blade bit into her skin, gashing her across her belly.

She screamed into the gag, thrashing and shaking against her restraints. Blood ran forth rapidly, covering her torso like red silk.

His head tilted as he watched her in awe; the way her stomach spasmed, her chest heaving heavy gasps as she quivered and continued her helpless pleading.

This was the man’s favorite part. Learning the way each victim handled their predicament, their pain, and the impending sense of death. He was sharing an intimate moment with them, to witness each one in their most visceral state. It was a thing of true beauty.

His gloved hand pressed into the blood and slid upwards, curving over her soft breasts, painting the skin a deep red. He moved closer, pressing his bloodied coat into her body, his masked face nestling into her neck, while he grabbed fists full of her breasts, fondling the softness, causing the woman to cry out again. His breathing deepened behind the mask at the sound.

The blade once again trailed over her skin, this time angled perpendicular and pressed enough to scrape against the skin as it moved from her thigh up to her hips, scrunching up her tattered nightgown as he did. She quivered in anticipation, muffled whispers falling from her dry lips as she quietly prayed to whatever god was listening that the pain would stop.

It fell upon deaf ears.

The blade sliced just above her hip, deep into the flesh.

She screamed again.

This time, when the woman thrashed, she kicked at him, nailing the man in the gut, recoiling him backwards with a grunt, nearly falling into the wall.

A grave mistake.

The man growled, fury boiling inside of him as he righted himself.

“ _Fucking bitch._ ” he spat.

He gripped the knife handle harder and raised it over his head as he rushed the woman, plunging the blade straight into her chest.

A shriek came from the woman as she began thrashing again, begging for forgiveness, desperately trying to tear herself free from her restraints, even at the expense of losing her hands if she needed to, but what started out as a cat toying with its food now became a wolf tearing into its prey.

Over and over the blade was driven into the woman, her assailant grunting with each thrust of the blade into her, panting as he positioned himself between her legs so that she was unable to kick him again.

Blood splattered over everything in the hallway; from the staircase to the ceiling, down to the hardwood floors. The attack did not end until the woman became completely silent; until the only sound she made was the squelching of her mangled chest as the blade continued to pierce her.

Overkill was one of the Ghost Face’s signature marks. It was not uncommon to find his victims with upwards of seventy stab wounds, some even past a hundred. The attacks told the police that whoever the Ghost Face was, he was fit enough to exert such strength and endurance, but it was the only thing they told as whoever this man was, he made certain to leave nothing else behind.

Exhausted, the man thrust the blade one final time into what remained of the woman’s torso with a grunt. Stopping to catch his breath, his masked face leaned into the bloody mess while his pelvis lazily grinded against her.

Once he recovered from his high, the man straightened himself, yanking his knife from her body with a sickening s _chlick_. He gazed over the blade glistening in the pale moonlight with her blood. Wiping it from the knife with his hand, the man smirked to himself at the sight of his work.

This one would surely make headlines.


End file.
